August 18th
Despite normally being quite anxious before a long hike, at this point I feel calm and mentally collected. Nice to see that experience does in fact alter one's perception of a given event.
Last year before heading out for the Hayduke Trail, I was certainly trepidatious for the coming months of walking. At the time so many questions seemed to be unanswered, and I was a bit reluctant to have them answered for me by simple circumstance during my hike, rather than beforehand. Honestly I was scared...fearful of the possibility of getting myself into a situation that I could not address with a likely favorable outcome.
Despite planning what I feel is an equally committing route across the Great Basin, I am much less concerned or fearful...either as a result of more thorough and proper planning, new found confidence, or a hearty helping of ignorance as to what's to come!
I guess my outlook for this walk is different. I am comfortable not knowing as many answers this go round. While a degree of fear still exists, the end result is an excitement and confidence to face it, rather than being paralyzed into inaction. Frankly, I believe in the idea, the plan, and myself to accomplish what I've set out to do.
I am actually happy knowing that despite thorough pre-hike research, questions remain. Too many things in life are already (or easily become) a pre-packaged experience...the unknown is one of the many beautiful characteristics of long distance walking. Best to embrace it!
Although premature to speculate, I'd like to believe that characteristic is a sign of a great trip to come.
Whatever the case may be, tomorrow I start -- and I am ready to find my rhythm and routine. I believe my mind and body are ready to welcome a new experience, an intriguing landscape, and face the inevitable challenges that await. I am looking forward to the coming months and am pleased that this idea, borne during the waning days of my hike last year, will be reality in a matter of hours.
Brian
August 19th
After arriving yesterday at the Id/Nv border, my father and I parked the van in a nice stand of White Pine and then walked back to the orange border post for a photograph. Back at the van a few minutes later, we continued to poke around the landscape amazed at the scale of the terrain. Vast pretty well sums it up.
After a generally restful night we parted ways at 6 am, me southbound on foot climbing xc to Red Point in the Elk Mtns.
The terrain here is awesome. Sweeping views in each cardinal direction. The walking is generally easy (primarily through sage) although keeping an eye out for rodent burrows, misc holes, and other footing issues requires a bit of focus. Around 8,000 ft the stands of pine are infrequent but do dot the landscape in tightly clustered groupings.
I continued south xc along and below the ridgeline of the Elk Mtns until joining an old two track past a few stock ponds, then veered west hop-scotching my way through thick sage. Occasionally I'd find a decent cattle trail to follow, but was content heading on a general bearing. A few barbwire fences later I joined the dirt rd that leads to Pole Creek Ranger Station, the ridgeline of he Jarbidge Mtns punctuating the skyline. Jarbidge Peak, The Matterhorn, Cougar, Prospect, and Marys River Peaks lined up on the horizon. ~4 miles down the road I descended into Slide Creek and the Jarbidge Wilderness.
A lunch of cold Cream O' Wheat and a good foot soak set the mental tone for the afternoon and I continued along the spring-fed waters of Slide Creek in an enthusiastic state of mind. Towering cliffs of rusty stone flanking each side of the canyon as I steadily descended.
It certainly feels pretty damn good to be out again. During past walks, the first few days have always been a struggle --- finding the rhythm of pace, slipping into that mental place --- just being in tune with the moment and appreciating it... that has been difficult for me. However I feel really good today! As cliche as it may sound, I feel like I just left the Hayduke last week and after swapping out some gear and grabbing some other maps, I am out on my next walk. The past 9 months of the actual work that went on to make this possible seems so incredibly irrelevant at the moment...I hope I have the mental fortitude to maintain the perspective. Often times you are never aware of the influence of a given event until it passes, but I think the Hayduke Trail and its associated experiences are continuing to bear fruit for me. This trip seemed so much more manageable in planning (and now perhaps in execution) having the experience of the Hayduke to draw upon.
Anyway, high desert canyons with a suitable drop in elevation are one of my favorite hiking environs from the simple standpoint of flora change, and Slide Creek did not disappoint. White and Limber Pine up high, along with Mountain Mahogany, Aspen, and the ever-present sage. Continuing downward Cottonwood, Birch, Elderberry, Currant, Chokecherry, and Wild Rose lined the riparian corridor with Juniper on the dry slopes above.
I eventually made my way down canyon to the confluence of Slide Creek and the East Fork of the Jarbidge River. I swung left and headed up the Jarbidge drainage to the confluence of Cougar Creek where I've established camp for the evening and where my feet are currently numb in the cold waters of the creek. Although only 4 pm, I've decided to call it quits for the day. Despite my enthusiasm to be walking I know I need to gauge my effort appropriately.
Wildlife today included: hawks, sage grouse, chukars, lizards, chipmunks, a few deer, 6 equestrians, and the ever present bovine.
~25 miles
Brian
August 20th
I was glad to finally get out of bed as my night was fidgety. I hit the trail ~6 am and began the ~5 mile climb up Cougar Creek. The trail was in fine shape, lined with dense stands of aspen and mahogany. I passed a few cabins along the ascent, one of which was in livable condition and also had a number of old tins (dry milk, cinnamon, coffee) about, one of which was dated 1922.
I eventually gained the saddle between Cougar and Prospect Peaks, with the hulking mass of Marys River Peak to the south and the Matterhorn rising behind me to the north. Surprisingly, a few patches of snow lingered on the north slope of both Cougar and Marys River Peak.
The descent from the saddle to Emerald Lake was nicely contoured and I arrived at the uh, um, Emerald waters of Emerald Lake and took a short break to watch the fish jump. Emerald Lake is one of very few lakes in the Jarbidge, and is really more of low spot filled with snow melt. Regardless it is stocked with sizeable fish -- possibly Lahotan Cutthroat if re-introduction efforts have been successful.
Leaving the banks of the lake I climbed to another saddle and then began a xc ridge scramble to the 10,000 ft+ summit of Marys River Peak. The going was straight forward, the upper flank of the mtn was loose talus but manageable. Although smokey from fires to the SW, I could make out the Ruby mtns on the southern horizon...~4 days walk.
I descended the eastern ridge of the peak which was primarily talus/scree and fairly steep. I regained trail and eventually descended to Camp Creek for lunch and a foot soak, but not before spooking a half dozen grouse. As innocent as grouse may appear, I swear they make an effort to hide, intentionally waiting until you are nearly on top of 'em before bursting from the sage in a mad flap of feathers. I am not ashamed to say that I've cried out in fright during more than one `grouse attack.'
After lunch I climbed out of the Camp Creek drainage to a saddle overlooking the Marys River Drainage. Originally I had planned to hike south on this ridgelne, but called an audible and headed down the drainage. The winds were picking up and the clouds building, so I thought better of the likely exposure. Hiking out the drainage would add ~7.5 miles to my route, but was much more straightforward and would also shorten the distant between upcoming water sources by ~ 10 miles ...down from 57 to 47 miles respectively.
During the descent of the drainge I spotted ~35 elk grazing and socializing in the meadows and aspen stands below. I stopped and listened for awhile, and was entertained to hear so many different distinct bugles.
Continuing downward through open sage and along vague trail, the winds continued and the sky began to intermittently spit rain. In another hr, I joined the main fork of Marys River and contoured just above the waters for ~5 miles before leaving the wilderness area. A few miles further along, after brushy stretch of interesting narrows, the canyon broadened and a grassy two track road found its terminus at the TH.
Finding a decent sized pool I took a quick bath before going about my camp chores of eating, cleaning, and fetching water.
Other than the grouse and elk, I also saw woodpeckers, bats, an owl, a crawfish, and a few deer during the day.
~20 miles
Brian
August 21st
I left camp before the sun hoping to get a jump on the heat. Most of the day was lined up for a variety of dirt roads, but like much of the high desert terrain not along riparian corridors, shade is minimal to nonexistent. Now that I was lower in elevation the temps (and the wind) were likely to be much more warm.
Thankfully the two track I started off with dipped into a few drainages and contoured below a ridgeline crest which kept me out of the sun for a few hrs. Before dropping back down into the Marys River drainage, the days warmth was confirmed by the appearance of a rattle snake sunning itself roadside. Giving it a wide berth I scooted by and soon strolled across a bridge spanning the Marys River.
Once across I stopped briefly beneath the bridge for some shade, a drink, laundry, and short foot soak. Keeping my feet clean and happy is paramount on this hike as laundry facilities are unlikely. Accumulated grit in socks don't make feet happy, so whenever I've had the chance to rinse my socks I've done so. Happy feet, happy hiking.
According to signage near the bridge, the Marys River has undergone a major restoration effort with the cooperation of local ranchers, the BLM, and various habitat conservation organizations. The upper corridor has been fenced from cattle, re-vegetated, and the stream banks have been rebuilt in hopes of restoring native fish and bird habitat. It appears to be a nice piece of work.
Heading down canyon along a grassy two track I crossed a few springs and seeps. Despite hauling plenty of water for the next two days, I made an effort to drink at each source.
Eventually I climbed south and away from the drainage, sorry to lose the cooler winds from the river channel to the winds coming across the open country. The hills due west and terrain south of me were charred from fires and the wind seemed to carry fresh cinder and ash with it. Not terribly refreshing.
On the horizon great plumes of dust rose and I assumed correctly that a few vehicles were heading my direction. ~20 minutes later a group of 5 firefighting trucks lurched by on the bumpy road...just after I encountered the second rattle snake of the morning. Friendly gestures and a few looks of surprise as they passed by. I was glad they made no effort to talk as that reassured me that any immediate fire danger was low.
After the dust cleared I continued south bound, spotting a coyote loping through the skeletal remains of sage and rabbit brush. Nevada is a pretty sparse place to begin with and even the more so when it is completely torched. Not real aesthetic but better than buildings or pavement.
Continuing on I approached two guys on horseback, apparently surveying the allotment that they run cattle on and assessing the damage. True cowboys...big belt buckles, pearl snap shirts, and a good sized plug of tobacco beneath their lips. One of them simply tipped his hat as I walked by, but the other struck up a brief conversation. He mentioned that the fire burnt ~190,000 acres and was just contained by fire crews yesterday...and that I would likely be walking through charred desert for the remaining miles to Deeth, my first re-supply.
Thanking them for the update I trudged on a few more miles before finding a small sliver of shade beneath a grouping of sage that was sparred by the blaze.
Just as I was packing up after a brief lunch (no foot soak!) a fellow rode up on an ATV. The cowboys I spoke with earlier worked for him and like them, he was out surveying the damage. He ran cattle on ~80,000 acres of BLM land and had actually been up in a plane this morning locating his scattered herd. He was a jovial man despite losing some cattle in the fire and shook my hand like we were long lost brothers. He talked about everyone on a first name basis as if I was familiar with them all. I always appreciate that. According to him, all the areas that did not burn had been grazed, and the remaining charred terrain had not been. He was anxious for the next meeting with the BLM to make his case for quicker rotations of allotments between permitted grazing periods for fire suppression. Nevada had a wet winter and a wet spring and the grasses were quite abundant. Unfortunately that wet spell was followed with very warm temps and the end result was a major tinder box. A few lightening strikes...
The rest of the afternoon was comprised of dodging dust devils, walking dirt roads, a series of bloody noses (3 days, 3 nosebleeds), and trying not to delve too far into my limited water supply.
As the sun began to sink I decided to stop for the evening. Not terribly motivated to eat, sleep, or unpack, I simply sat down in the dirt and looked across the landscape...not really focused on anything in particular, my mind clear.
~25 miles
Brian
August 22nd
I go hiking for many reasons, but one of those reasons is to seek or await an epiphany. Epiphany comes in many shapes and sizes...it might be a new way to lace my boots, a new product design for the business, or (and these are my favorite) ideas that in all likelihood will significantly alter and impact my life. The last such epiphany came to me on my PCT hike. ULA Equipment was its offspring. The latest epiphany is just as grand in scale and therefore demands my immediate attention. To be frank, I am having a really hard time concentrating on my hike! It may seem strange to have an idea suddenly spring to life, but it has been banging around my head since I left the Hayduke Trail last fall, where it originally developed. Unfortunately it got back-burnered by other more immediate concerns...work, life, etc...but now that those distractions are gone, it is making itself well known...even after only 3 days on the trail!
Sitting in the dirt last night after a day of walking, starring blankly into the sea of sage, I came to a rather startling conclusion... The Great Basin Traverse will come to a screeching halt upon my arrival in Deeth, Nevada...not due to physical or mental duress, but because I am more excited about something else. Plain and simple.
Some may cry failure I am sure, but it is irrelevant to me. I walk 'cause it facilitates a clear head, and if my head says do something else, I've learned to listen.
I certainly have no regrets, and know that the route will always be there --- maps, plans and food are all taken care of, however I need to participate in a more engaged manner to fully reap the benefits of this tremendous landscape. For me there is no sense in doing something unless my heart and mind are fully engaged. Despite my enthusiasm the last few days, I have enough miles under my feet to know when I am not in the place I need to be to fully enjoy myself or the walk. While I am certain I could continue and complete the hike, it would be a forced-focus death march and I know that is not how I want to go about experiencing the Great Basin. That kind of mindset tends to keep me blind to possibility.
Having suddenly shifted my focus, I had difficulty with the remaining mileage to Deeth. Despite 5 offers of rides from locals, I managed the ~20 miles in 6 hrs...stopping once to tend to another bloody nose, and again later in attempts to lure some pronghorn closer (~10 yds away!).
Once in Deeth I picked up my box, had a quick rinse from the hose in front of the post office (single wide trailer), and then had a great hr long conversation with Doris McCoy the local postmaster. She replaced her mother as the postmaster 3 yrs ago when she retired after 50 yrs of service. Doris imagined her own daughter might very well replace her when she decides to call it quits. Doris also has a son whom she is quite proud of as he worked in a local mine before being hired on at at a gold mine in Indonesia. She hopes to visit him soon.
Although cut short, the first ~90 miles of the Great Basin Traverse were everything I had imagined... diverse in flora, fauna, and terrain. I am certain that would continue throughout the route as would encounters with more interesting people.
Depending on how things shake out in the next week, I may re-start the Great Basin Traverse, albeit in a better place mentally with clear focus and intent.
Brian
